


Music & Poetry

by Analogicisms



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Background Dr. Emile Picani, Band Fic, Cute, Gay Panic, Inspired by Music, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Meet-Cute, Therapist Dr. Emile Picani, analogical - Freeform, in which logan is a poet, in which virgil is a lyricist, patton is dating dr. picani, patton owns a coffee shop book store
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24030109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analogicisms/pseuds/Analogicisms
Summary: SUMMARYPopular-but-not-really-famous lyricist Virgil Quinn meets an attractive poet named Logan who claims to hate music. Virgil, who believes lyrics to be every bit the poetry as the kind found in books and anthologies and inspirational posters, feels the need to prove to Logan wrong.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani, Morality | Patton Sanders/Dr. Emile Picani
Comments: 49
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **[Read on Tumblr](https://analogicisms.tumblr.com/post/190633051554/music-poetry-chapter-one) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:**
>
>> The author does not own _Sanders Sides_ or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.

# Music & Poetry

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

### Chapter One

#### ♞ LOGAN ♞

Logan sighed as he checked his phone for the second time in two minutes. He was standing outside of the main hall of the university where he would be speaking on that day. Due to his need for extensive planning, however, he was nearly two hours early for when he was required to be there. 

He considered checking in with the dean of the school but knew that many people felt inconvenienced by those who arrived more than an hour early. Typically, Logan didn’t care too much about inconveniencing others with early arrivals, but Thomas Sanders, the dean of the school, was not just some man who had invited him to speak at this year’s graduation. Thomas was also a very dear friend of his, and Logan would hate to add any undue anxiety onto the man’s already burdened shoulders. 

Sighing again, Logan considered the time once more before opening Google Maps and searching for nearby cafes. 

_Of course,_ Logan thought as his eyes took in the ten plus pins indicating Starbucks Coffee shops in the area. It was not that Logan was a coffee snob, though his best friend Roman would disagree, he was simply a man who knew what he liked, and Starbucks was awful in terms of taste compared to value. In his opinion, of course—although anyone who disagreed was an idiot.

Scrolling down to the list, his gaze was caught by the third listing. _The Bumble Bean._ Logan hummed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the pun. It was, after all, better than the alternative. 

He noted the letter corresponded with the shop before consulting the map. Clicking on the name of the cafe, it popped up on the map and Logan clicked its little pin. The shop’s information appeared in a little bubble, including the business hours and, more importantly, the distance from his current location. 

A block and a half away. Not bad for a walk, especially considering the suit he wore. Decision made, Logan set down his messenger bag long enough to pull off the suit jacket. Lifting his bag from the ground, he draped his jacket over the bag and shouldered the strap once more. 

A quick click of the directions link on Google Maps and he was on his way.

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

#### 💀 VIRGIL 💀

Virgil leaned back in the leather armchair he occupied, covering a yawn with his arm. 

“Don’t start with that now, ViVi.” 

Virgil grinned as he looked up at the barista who also happened to be his best friend. 

“Sorry, Pat.” 

Patton Hart was five foot four inches of adorable from the top of his curls to his white chucks with rainbow cat faces printed on the material. He also had the endearing habit of worrying for his friends. Especially Virgil. 

“Late night again?” Patton asked, brows furrowing in concern behind oversized glasses with gold round frames. Virgil nodded. “Sleep is important, kiddo.” 

Anyone who overheard the conversation would likely wonder why Patton—who easily looked younger than Virgil, though they were actually the same age—was calling him kiddo, but Virgil had come to accept that as just Patton being Patton. He was definitely a mom _and_ dad friend.

Virgil sighed. “Yeah.” He brought a hand to his eyes, closing them to rub at the lids before offering Patton a winning smile. “These lyrics won’t write themselves.” 

Patton pursed his lips as he set Virgil’s black coffee down on a coaster. Once he’d straightened up, hands were fisted and rested on hips. Virgil tried his best to hold back a grin, but the other looked too adorable like that and so he failed. Miserably. 

“It’s not funny, Virgil. One of these days, you’re gonna wish you’d listened to dear ol’ Patton.”

“And when that day comes, I will gladly accept your ‘I told you so’. Unfortunately, I’m a night owl and my brain works best in the dead of night.” 

Patton tutted but said nothing else on the matter. “Don’t forget, its drinks night tonight. Emile will be late but I should be able to close up a little early so I’ll be there at ten.” 

Virgil nodded. “Alright. Honestly, though, I don’t know why I even go. Ever since you two started dating, I feel like such a third wheel. Are you sure you two just don’t want the time to yourself? You and I could always catch up later.”

“Nonsense. Emile is as much your friend as he is mine, boyfriend or not. And, I don’t want to hear another word about it, mister.” 

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, mom.” 

“Good. Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold.” He glanced up at the front and gave a start. “Oops, gotta get back to work. I’ll try to chat when the rush ends.” 

Virgil waved him off. “Sure thing, buddy. Talk to you later.” 

Watching Patton make his way behind the counter, Virgil let his gaze wander to take in the other patrons of the little cafe. A smile slipped onto his lips as he remembered the day three years ago when Patton rushed up to him before blurting out his idea for a bookstore coffee house. Virgil had never seen his best friend so excited about anything in his life, which was saying a lot considering Patton’s default setting was excited. 

It had taken a lot of work and Virgil had put a lot of money into the place—an investment, he had told Patton when the other tried to refuse—but the struggle had paid off in the end. _The Bumble Bean_ had quickly become one of the hot spots in town, especially for students at the local university and high schools. Virgil was proud of his friend and never missed a chance to tell him, either. 

The gentle, light sound of the bell on the door sounded and Virgil idly glanced in that direction. 

_Oh. My. God._

A man who looked not much older than Virgil--but dressed in way nicer clothes than Virgil had ever owned--stepped inside and looked around before heading toward the counter. Virgil watched him as he made his way across the café, his eyes taking in the man's face as his own heated up considerably. 

_Gay panic is real._

Virgil quickly looked away, busying himself with drinking his coffee. Unfortunately, due to his preoccupied brain, he had forgotten that coffee was generally _very_ hot, and burned his tongue. 

“Fuck.” He swore under his breath, tongue now numb and raw. Setting the cup down, Virgil glanced at the man from the corner of his eye. 

_I’m gay. I am_ so _fucking gay._

Virgil watched as the man stepped up to the counter after the last customer finished paying. He found himself wondering what kind of drink the man would order, mentally reminding himself to ask Patton later. Watching Patton help the man, Virgil guessed at what kind of job the man had. 

_A businessman… then again, those pants are fitted as fuck… lawyer, maybe? Or CEO of some Fortune 500…_

Pursing his lips, Virgil shook his head. The man didn’t look like a slimy, two-timing, grubby-handed snake. It was possible he was dressed for a specific event. The suit aside, Virgil would guess a professor, or a scientist even. There was no way he would be able to guess correctly, he decided. No point trying. 

Turning his attention to his coffee, Virgil was momentarily distracted by the sound of feedback coming from the front. A stage was set up on the opposite side of the entrance, a young guy around Virgil’s age if not younger moving the stool closer to the microphone already present. There was a guitar in his other hand and a smile slipped onto Virgil’s face. 

Virgil Quinn was a college student at the local university but he was also a well-known lyricist. Well, _well-known_ was a little generous considering most people weren’t really interested in lyricists so much as the band or artist themselves. Most lyricists were annoyed by that fact but not Virgil. He liked being famous without actually _being_ famous. 

Unlike the bands that sang his songs, Virgil could go where he liked, when he liked, with no concern for his safety or his privacy. Even on the rare occasion, a fan did care about the person who wrote the songs, his work was still appreciated and loved from afar. His pictures weren’t the ones being plastered online, on busses, on television ads, and so on. He had more Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube followers than the average person and he was relatively “known”, but definitely not enough that it made much difference to his daily life. 

That was exactly how Virgil preferred it. 

“Do you mind?”

Virgil’s attention had been successfully distracted enough that he hadn’t noticed anyone come up. 

“Mind?” Virgil’s indifferent attitude quickly turned shy and awkward as he turned to look at the person who asked the question. The gorgeous Mr. Maybe-A-Scientist.

“I’d like to claim that chair over there but I’ll need to get past you to get there. If you don’t mind.”

Virgil seized up before mentally reminding himself that this was just another guy. Another human being. He could play it cool. 

_Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Don’t blush._

Virgil glanced at the chair before looking back up at the man. He cleared his throat and stood up. 

In the brief few seconds that past between them as Virgil stood so he could shift out of the man’s way, Virgil became certain of a handful of things. 

First, the man with his dark gray, nearly black eyes could not be a CEO or lawyer. While his eyes held a certain level of cold, there was far too much feeling in them. Too much depth. Second, the man was at least a head shorter than him but there was no way Virgil would have known if he hadn’t stood up. The confidence the man held about him was absolutely admirable. Virgil would have been worried the man was arrogant or, worse, a narcissist but he seemed far too polite and formal. Instead of self-importance, it was an air of near indifference that radiated from him.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah. No sweat.”

Virgil could have mentally kicked himself. _No sweat? Seriously?_ This man was obviously a man that existed off of intellectual knowledge and discourse. The best he could come up with was _no sweat_?

Virgil watched the other’s face, certain to see some sort of sign of dismissal but it never came. Instead, the man raised a brow and a second later, his lips quirked upwards. It was slight. So slight that Virgil wasn’t even certain he truly saw it. That was until the man spoke again. 

“I still need to get by you, I’m afraid.” 

Was that amusement Virgil heard laced ever so subtly throughout the carefully chosen words? Virgil glanced at where he stood and swore under his breath. He was an absolute idiot. One thing was certain, however, as Virgil finally moved out of the other’s way. There was a definite spark of amusement in the man’s eyes and voice when he glanced back to thank him, before moving on to the armchair just on the other side of the coffee table. 

Virgil blushed, quickly sitting once more and trying his best to melt into the couch. Not possible, of course, but he had to give himself props for trying. Deciding he had done enough damage to their interaction, Virgil turned his attention back to the stage where the young man with the guitar was now engaging the patrons sat around the stage. 

As the singer started playing and fading into his song, Virgil almost forgot about Mr. Sexy Scientist. No, who was he kidding. There was no way he could _actually_ forget about him. Not with him being so damn attractive. Not with him being so damn close. But, his focus was preoccupied just enough to take his mind off the man, if only for the moment. 

That was, until a sound escaped the man, pulling Virgil’s attention back to him once more. _Why is he so good looking?_ Life hated him. That was all there was to it. Putting such a gorgeous, put together man at arms reach only for Virgil to not have any chance in hell with him. The sound that left the man, however, had Virgil’s curiosity piqued. It was definitely a scoff that he had heard come from the well dressed man. 

“Not a fan of this kind of music?” Virgil asked, before he could think better of it. He took note that the other had pulled out a book and was presumably reading it. He didn’t even look up at Virgil when answered his question. 

“Not a fan of music, actually.” 

Virgil raised a brow. There was no way he had heard correctly. “Sorry, what now?”

The man looked up this time, a wry sort of expression on his face. It was the look of someone who had had this conversation on more than one occasion and didn’t find it any more enjoyable than he had the first time. Virgil felt bad, but only a little. He was more curious and so offered an apologetic shrug, but continued to look at the man expectantly. 

The man sighed, marking the page he had been reading with a finger and set the book in his lap. His eyes found Virgil’s and it was all he could do to not look away. Swallowing hard, Virgil waited to hear what the man was about to say. 

“I’m just not a fan of any type of music. It’s just… not my thing. I guess, classical counts as music and I do enjoy that when I am writing but in the general view of what is music these days, I really can’t say any of it has my appreciation.”

Virgil frowned. How sad to not like any music. The man looked ready to return to his book but Virgil found himself not wanting the conversation to end just yet. Grasping for something to talk about, he took note of what the man had said. 

“Writing?”

The man nodded. He continued to watch Virgil but was obviously not about to offer any further information without being prompted. 

_Just my luck. The most gorgeous man walks into my life and unwittingly challenges all my anxieties._

“What do you write?” 

Maybe he was an author? 

“I’m a poet.” Suddenly a hand was offered to him from across the coffee table. Virgil took it at the last minute, shaking it and trying hard not to focus on the fact that they were _technically_ holding hands. Too soon, the man pulled his hand back. “Logan Wright. I don’t expect you’ve heard of me but you’ve most likely come across a few of my poems. They’ve been used in various media.”

Virgil could only nod, unsure of what to say. A poet! Not only that but a poet who _doesn't_ like music. As a lyricist, Virgil was of the belief that lyrics were poetry put to notes in order to make a song—to make music. 

The man went back to his book and Virgil watched him for a few moments before letting his attention return to the performer. The guy was not the best singer ever but played the guitar like a boss. Still, Virgil could hear the potential and knew well that this man could have a musical career hands down as long as he kept at it. The biggest draw to a singer like this one was that the words could be felt with his voice. That was a quality that so many singers didn’t have but the very quality that proved Virgil’s belief. 

He knew he shouldn’t care. He knew well that the likelihood of him ever seeing this man—Logan—again was slim to none. Yet, he couldn’t keep his attention from returning to the man. Every few glances, he would see the other wince or grimace. Virgil wanted to feel offended on the singer’s behalf but instead, he just felt pity for Logan. 

The time soon came when Logan stood and asked by him once again. This time Virgil was quick to stand and smiled shyly. 

“Hope you have a good day.”

_Wow, could I be any more lame?_

The man smiled, however, and nodded. “Likewise.” 

Virgil then watched him as he headed out of the shop and back into the world. 

A few seconds passed, Virgil wishing he had asked for his number or something. Not only that, but the knowledge that the man was missing out on something that was inspiration for millions of people… that just didn’t sit right with him. If only he could spend a few days with Logan… show him what he was missing out on. Prove to him that not all music was bad and so much of it told a story. 

_Fuck._

Before he could talk himself out of it, Virgil rushed through the shop and out the door. He glanced in the direction the man had gone, his eyes falling on his retreating back. 

“Logan!” he called out. The man stopped and turned, tilting his head in a cute manner. Virgil didn’t focus on that, instead starting toward him as the man started back, distance closing between them. 

“Can I help you?”

Virgil blushed, suddenly unsure of himself. Was what he was about to propose stupid? Whatever. He would never know until he tried. 

“Give me a week.”

Logan snorted. “I’m sorry, give you what?”

Virgil blushed and rushed on. “I mean… in there. What you said about music? Give me a week to prove you wrong.”

Logan blinked and slowly smirked. “And what makes you think I’ll even be here a week?”

That stopped Virgil in his tracks. It never even occurred to him that the man was out of town. He felt himself frowning and was about to apologize when the man spoke up again. 

“I mean, I will be, as it turns out, but it is intriguing for you to just assume so. Still, your proposal has me curious. I don’t know exactly how you plan to change my mind, but I do like experiments as much as the next scholar. I do have somewhere to be at the present, but if you give me your number, I will text you.”

In the next moments, Virgil gave Logan his number and watched as he walked away. He had no idea how he had managed it, but now that was the least of his worries. 

Virgil now had just under seven days to change the mind of a very hot, intelligent, and opinionated poet. 

To say he had his work cut out for him was definitely an understatement.

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note to the Reader:**
>
>> Okay, so I posted this on Tumblr months ago. Kept putting off posting it on here then had a lot of things go down in my personal life and then it was forgotten. I hope you found it enjoyable! If you just finished reading, thank you for reading and let me know what you think. Comments would be highly appreciated as I love the back and forth between writer and reader but kudos are always welcome. And if you don't have time to leave a comment now, the story will still be here later. I'd rather hear from my readers long after the fact than never ever. Just food for thought.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **[Read on Tumblr](https://analogicisms.tumblr.com/post/619129436352266240/music-poetry-chapter-two) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:**
>
>> The author does not own _Sanders Sides_ or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.

# Music & Poetry

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

### Chapter Two

#### ♞ LOGAN ♞

What had he been thinking?

That was the question of the day, apparently. 

First, he had agreed to give a complete stranger— _a very aesthetically pleasing stranger, but a stranger no less,_ his brain supplied—a week to somehow, miraculously, suddenly get Logan to enjoy something he had not enjoyed for most of his life. Sure, he had done it, because he was very attracted to the individual and would not mind spending more time with him. Especially if he blushed a bit more. 

If that had not been enough, he had then texted said individual—of course, he would have regardless simply because he had already said he would. He had sent a simple _hello, this is Logan Wright sending you a text message as I stated I would when we met at_ The Bumble Bean _earlier today around noon_. Sending that had not been the strange thing. The strange thing had been that when he received the _hey… what’s up?_ Logan did in fact respond back and tell him about how he was going to speak for a local graduation and was spending time with a dear old friend. The other guy—Virgil—had responded _cool_ and Logan had just begun to feel disappointment when he received a second text that told about Virgil’s own day. From there, the conversation took off, Logan often catching himself surprised that it was so easy to talk to this Virgil character. 

Neither of those things had been the craziest of his actions that day. When he told Thomas—and by proxy, Thomas’s husband Remy—about the cute “emo” guy at the coffee shop, Logan thought for sure he was out of out-of-the-ordinary things to do. That was until he then told them he was currently texting him and quite enjoying the conversation. That one didn’t last long, however, because Virgil asked him to meet up for drinks that night and Logan, completely unprompted, looked up at Thomas—and Remy by proxy, considering he was currently seated across Thomas’s lap—and conveyed all of this to them. 

Logan knew by the sudden glints in their eyes and the smirks on their faces that there was absolutely no way Logan was going to decline. Logan was quite grateful for the excuse but if he was being honest with himself, something he worked diligently on every day, then he would know that he would have agreed to the “get-together” whether Thomas and Remy demanded him to or not. 

Nobody else, however—least of all those two—needed to know.

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

#### 💀 VIRGIL 💀

“Oh my God! What the fuck—”

“Language!” Patton frowned deeply at him. Virgil waved it away. 

This was important! His life was screwed and not in the good way. He was fucked. Again, not in the good way. 

“What the feckity-feck did I do?” 

He was looking at his phone in horror. 

Patton looked at Emile, who smiled softly and nodded. Getting up, Patton crossed to where Virgil stood in the middle of their living room. Virgil had asked to come over. 

He had just been in the middle of telling them about his and Mystery Man’s conversation. Every so often, Patton watched as his face grew brighter and a smile slipped over his lips, fingers moving over the keys as he presumably replied to this Mystery Man—whose name was Logan and he was a poet, but Mystery Man was just to fun to say and so he and Emile still used it. He couldn’t help the burst of warmth that spread through him as he squeezed Emile’s hand tighter for a few moments. A happy sigh escaped him as Emile’s thumb brushed over his knuckles. Patton was just about to sneak a little kiss when Virgil’s outburst took place. 

Still a little upset about the unnecessary language, Patton put that out of his mind in favor of studying Virgil’s face. He immediately jumped into super friend mode, taking the other’s phone out of his hand. Virgil let him, his hand falling uselessly to his side as he closed his eyes. 

Patton frowned but was grateful it seemed as if Virgil was no longer in risk of a panic attack. At least, for the time being. Worried about what had caused such a reaction, Patton reached out to grip Virgil’s shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy. I’m going to read this, if that’s okay with you? Just want to know what’s going on so I… so we can help… that okay with you, kiddo?”

Virgil blinked and looked at Patton then at his phone. With a sigh, he nodded. 

Patton smiled in thanks and took a moment to go through the text, making sure only to look at the recent ones. He frowned, not sure what was up until he reread the last text between the two which was from Virgil to Logan and it was… 

“Oh my god, Em! Virge asked him out!” 

“Patton!!!” 

Patton blushed and frowned though it only lasted for a few seconds. He was just too excited. 

“I’m sorry, Vivi! It’s just that I’m so proud of you. We both are and on top of that, it’s just so cute how smitten you are. You’re like… my new favorite romcom!” 

Virgil snorted at that and sighed, reaching out to take his phone. Patton closed out of the text and reached out, offering it to him. At that very moment, however, his phone sounded with a new message notification. 

“Oh my gosh, he replied!!” 

“Thanks, Pat! I couldn’t tell!” He wriggled uncomfortably. “I… I can’t look.” 

Patton nodded. “Do you want me to read it and tell you what it says?”

Virgil hesitated but nodded. 

Patton nodded in response and pulled the phone back to him. Opening the text message, he read the words on the screen as his face broke into a huge grin. 

“What’s it say? Is it bad? Is he creeped out? Tell me he’s creeped out so I can go home and make myself a nest and listen to MCR until I’m a hundred and five years old and die from a heart attack…” 

Emile, who had been a silent observer for most of the exchange, did his best to not make mental notes of what Virgil had just said. _He is_ not _your patient, Picani. He is your_ friend. Standing, he moved to stand next to Patton. He placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and squeezed. 

“Do you want to put this away for now and come back to it in a moment?”

Virgil nodded quickly. Emile nodded and was holding his hand to hold onto the phone when Virgil reached out to stop him. 

“No, actually… I can do it now. Pat… hand me my phone. I can do this.” 

“Yes you can, kiddo.” Patton agreed, handing him the phone. He then looked up at Emile who smiled back, knowing that the answer on the other side of that text message was a good one. 

This was soon confirmed as they watched Virgil read the response, his face growing more and more red. That was okay though, because the smile on his face was growing just as big. When he looked up at them, his black eyes were the brightest and warmest either of them had ever seen. 

“He said yes!” 

“Oh that’s so great!” Patton exclaimed. 

“He would have been insane not to, and I would know,” Emile added. Virgil and Patton laughed at his joke, Virgil snorting and rolling his eyes. 

“Thank you, guys!” He said, patting them both on the back. “So we’re cool to reschedule drinks’ night?”

“Absolutely, kiddo. We can do Friday like all the cool cats do.” 

Virgil hugged Patton and clapped Emile on the shoulder. 

“See ya later guys!” 

“Good luck…” Patton called out. 

“Not that you need it!” Emile finished, wrapping his arm around Patton’s waist to pull him against him. Once Virgil was out the door, the therapist beamed at his boyfriend. “Shall we go back to cuddling?”

Patton smiled up at him and nodded, stepping on tippy-toe to rub their noses together. 

“Yes, please.”

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note to the Reader:**
>
>> Here is chapter 2! It's short, I apologize. Hopefully no less enjoyable tho!
>> 
>> Let me know what you think :D


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **[Read on Tumblr](https://analogicisms.tumblr.com/post/620657695540871168/music-poetry-chapter-three) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:**
>
>> The author does not own _Sanders Sides_ or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.

# Music & Poetry

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

### Chapter Three

#### ♞ LOGAN ♞

Logan sat at the bar, phone in hand as he watched the front door, waiting for the man that he had just met that morning. If Thomas had told him earlier that day that he would meet a really attractive guy _and_ later agree to have drinks with him, Logan would have inquired whether or not the Dean of Students had lost his mind. Then again, not all the men he met were like this one. And thank goodness, or he would never get any work done.

Just then the front door opened and Virgil stepped in. Logan ignored the heat that suddenly radiated from his ears and thanked his lucky stars that the bar they had agreed on was pretty dark due to dim lighting. Virgil reached him and grinned that damned attractive smile. Unfortunately, though he was happy his own blush was hidden, the dim lighting meant he would not be able to see Virgil’s cute blush. 

_All the more reason to spend more time with him, Logan,_ the poet told himself. It was a good thing that he had agreed to spend a whole week with him. 

Laughing to himself, he reminded himself to not count his chickens before they hatched. 

_Let’s get through tonight first._

“Hello again, Virgil,” he greeted the emo man, holding out his hand. He watched as Virgil smiled and took it. Though he wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or not, Logan was fairly certain that the other’s face was just a bit darker across his cheeks. Damn but Virgil blushing did something to him. 

“Heya, Logan.” A squeeze of his hand and it was released. Virgil took the empty barstool next to him and nodded in the general direction of the nearest bartender. “What’s your poison?”

Logan considered. 

“Scotch over ice, please.” 

Virgil nodded and waved over a bartender. The bartender introduced herself as Quil and Virgil thanked her before ordering Logan a double shot of Scotch on the rocks and a White Russian for himself. 

“A _White Russian_?” Logan inquired as he watched Quil walk away to make their drinks. “I am afraid I do not partake of alcohol usually and when I do drink I don’t usually stray from what I know.”

“No worries, dude. A White Russian is a mixed drink made with Vodka, Kalua--that’s a coffee liqueur--and cream. It’s sweet but not too sweet like a lot of the other mixed drinks out there.”

Logan nodded. “Why is it called a White Russian?”

He watched as Virgil opened his mouth to answer but seemed to think better of it because he closed his mouth a second later. He then seemed to be in thought for a good few moments. A few seconds later Virgil shrugged. 

“You know, I don’t actually know. I assume it is because it’s Vodka and the recipe gives it a sort of white, creamy color… but don’t quote me on that.”

Logan considered the assumption and nodded. It definitely had merit, even if it wasn’t the actual reason. 

“I suppose I can see that.” He nodded and allowed the little smile that tugged on his lips to spread across them. Virgil, his dark eyes meeting Logan’s, smiled back. Logan was very pleased to see the skin of Virgil’s cheeks darken just a bit once more. 

Their conversation was paused when Quil returned with their drinks. Logan took his drink, eyeing Virgil’s with interest and curiosity. He sipped at his own, humming his pleasure as the rich, almost warm flavor coated his taste buds. A contented smile spread over his lips as the liquid slid down his throat and the drink was soon a steady but short-lived burn deep in his belly. 

Opening his eyes, Logan caught his current company staring at him. When it was clear he had been caught, the other man blushed. This time there was no question in Logan’s mind that Virgil was blushing. A grin slipped onto his lips but he said nothing, allowing Virgil to glance away to catch his composure before the emo man looked his way again. 

“So… how exactly do you plan to go about this little challenge?”

Virgil blinked owlishly at him for a few moments, apparently having forgotten the whole reason they had started talking in the first place. Logan waited, certain it would come back to him soon enough. He was correct in his guess as a moment later, Virgil let out a sound of exasperation. 

“Oh… yeah. Well, I honestly just planned to sit us down and play music for us to listen to… uh… together…”

Logan smirked. 

“What makes you think your company alone will make a difference?”

Virgil shook his head. 

“I don’t think my _company_ will make a difference… not really. I do think that my _insight_ into the music might help though.”

Logan nodded. He had to hand it to the man. Though he was quite obviously not in Science or Medicine or Law, the man seemed to be pretty intelligent. 

_Attractive and smart… there is no way this man is this perfect._

He did wonder at that. Usually, when people seemed too good to be true, it was because they were. Usually, his instincts were pretty reliable when it came to that and when they weren’t, common sense kicked in. In Virgil’s case, however, Logan felt as if he could already trust him. That didn’t mean he would not continue to be on guard but it did mean he could afford to relax a little. 

Lifting his drink, he watched as Virgil did the same. He didn’t mean to stare but Virgil was far too fascinating. He was also very attractive. Logan was not used to being so interested in someone. Least of all a stranger. And yet, for some reason, Virgil didn’t _feel_ like a stranger. 

_Uh oh._ If he was actually feeling things then that was it. He was too far gone. 

_Remy is right. I am a disaster gay._

He sighed. 

Unfortunately, Virgil heard it. Immediately the look in the other’s eyes told him all the worries and fears that were suddenly invading the emo man’s mind. 

_Aha. He’s got severe anxiety._

Well, that was okay. Logan might not have been in tune with his own feelings most of the time but, when it came to anxiety, typically common sense and logic were great combatants against it. 

“I’m sorry, Logan. Am I keeping you out too late or--”

Logan held his hand up and shook his head. 

“No. I want to be here. If I thought it was too late or if I had not wanted to come, I wouldn’t have.”

Blunt but to the point. No room for argument.

Virgil still looked like he wanted to argue but Logan knew his logic was flawless and so the man said nothing. That was not good either though. 

Logan frowned to see Virgil staring at his drink. Logan glanced at it too and it was then an idea came to him. Sure, it was not his style but he had seen similar flirtation tactics throughout his years as an adult and from the little he knew about Virgil, he was pretty sure this one would work. 

Saying nothing, Logan reached out and took Virgil’s glass in hand, pulling it toward him. Virgil looked at him incredulously, eyes widening as Logan’s lips closed around the very same straw he had been sipping out from. Though he hadn’t necessarily chosen the tactic to taste Virgil’s drink of choice, the moment the concoction hit his tongue, he let out a happy sound. 

“Oh. Wow. That really is good.” He smiled Virgil’s way, pretending not to notice the sudden flush of Virgil’s face which was now red enough that even the dimmed atmosphere of the bar could not hide it. Logan tilted his head, looking innocent. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

He then took another sip, this time holding the other’s gaze as he did. Another happy sound escaped him because truly--it was appetizing. Logan licked his lips as he set the glass back down on Virgil’s coaster, gaze still holding that of the other man’s. 

“Unless you _do_ mind sharing with me?”

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

#### 💀 VIRGIL 💀

_“Unless you do mind sharing with me?”_

Virgil was pretty certain that he was dreaming. He had somehow fallen asleep and dreamed Logan agreed to meet him and now that dream had made Logan a flirt and… 

“Sorry.”

Virgil blinked and shook his head. 

“No! No it’s totally fine! Totally cool! No big!”

_Not as if you just indirectly kissed me or anything!_

Except that was exactly what he had done. Still, Virgil did not want Logan to feel as if Virgil minded his company or his tasting his beverage. 

“We can um… we can share this one and get another after?”

Virgil couldn’t help the blush that rose in his cheeks once more as Logan smiled agreeably. 

“Sure. Perhaps you would like a taste of mine?”

Virgil was so desperate for something to do, he took hold of Logan’s glass, brought it to his lips, and drank. Perhaps a little too deeply. 

Swallowing hard, he coughed at the sudden intense burn. Setting the glass back down on Logan’s coaster, Virgil quickly drank from his own drink. 

_There’s that indirect kiss._

Another blush. 

“Should we flag down the bartender for another?”

Virgil blinked and looked down at the glass in his hand. 

“Oh. I didn’t realize I’d finished it.”

“Well, I may have drank from it at first as a flirtation tactic but it truly is quite satisfactory in taste.”

Virgil blinked. 

“You just admitted to flirting with me…”

This time Virgil caught Logan’s blush and he couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto his face.

“I just worried that you might be talking yourself out of seeing it so I wanted to confirm… just so there is no question in your mind that I am attracted to you. I am also keeping myself from talking myself out of… whatever this is.”

Virgil blushed as Logan’s blush doubled. 

“Aren’t we just a nutty pair?”

Logan nodded. Virgil smiled and looked away from Logan to flag down a bartender. Quil caught his movements and joined them a second later. 

“What else can I get for ya?”

“Two waters and another White Russian please.” 

Quil nodded and made fast work of creating the beverages. Placing the waters down first, she then placed the White Russian in front of Virgil. 

Thanking her, Virgil closed out their tab and tipped her. He then turned back to his date and smiled, lifting the glass to sip from the straw before passing it to Logan. He watched as Logan drank a sizable sip before it was passed to Virgil once more. 

“I was serious, you know?” Virgil began, setting the drink down on its coaster. “About trying to change your mind about music… it wasn’t just an excuse to spend more time with you but… that is definitely a bonus that I don’t feel too bad about exploiting.” 

He laughed deeply and leaned in closer to the other man who subconsciously mirrored his actions. There was very little space between them now. Virgil took in the other’s stormy grey eyes and the slight bags under his eyes. No doubt from late hours spent up writing. Virgil felt for him. 

“I know.” 

Virgil blinked. Logan smirked at him. 

“It was because you were serious that my interest was piqued.”

“Oh.” 

Logan laughed, the sound almost melodic in the way it seemed to caress his eardrums. He shrugged and then slid a little closer to the edge of his barstool. Virgil watched as this caused the other’s knees to press against his own. Swallowing hard, Virgil brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck but forced himself to hold Logan’s gaze. He hoped it was not wishful thinking that the hungry look he saw in those deep grey eyes was there. 

“Yeah… not every day some random stranger makes it his purpose to change my mind… which, I should warn you is not an easy task. The fact that you are really attractive and funny… those are bonuses for me. Your passion and conviction for music though, that I find very commendable, so I’ll allow you to try to change my mind. Just don’t be surprised if you cannot.”

Virgil allowed a sheepish grin. 

“I’m a lyricist. To me, lyrics are every bit the poetry that poets write. Just put to a melody. The melody pulls people in and the words get people to stay. They get people coming back.”

“Well, now I understand why you were so adamant.”

Virgil watched as Logan reached for the White Russian, his own beverage forgotten. He sipped deeply, the contented sound leaving him as his eyes met and held Virgil’s gaze. A smirk slowly slipped onto the poet’s lip as he continued to drink. Virgil raised a brow in curiosity but as Logan only continued to drink from the glass, it became clear that he was not going to stop unless Virgil stopped him. 

“That good, hm?”

Logan nodded, eyes bright. 

“Then who am I to stop you.” 

And then he winked. 

Of all the stupid things— _oh my he blushes so prettily._

Logan had indeed blushed at his wink.

“Did you want—”

Virgil shook his head. 

“You drink it… I like the idea that I turned you on to White Russians.”

Logan laughed at that and finished off the beverage.

“Do you want another?” Virgil asked. 

Logan shook his head, setting the glass back on the coaster. 

“No… I actually don’t spend a lot of time in bars or drinking… not that there’s anything wrong with it, of course. Just do not typically have reason to. I do know, however, that I am not ready to end the night here with you… would you want to maybe walk around for a bit? Unless you need to call it a night. It is getting pretty late…”

Virgil snorted. “For most people, sure. I don’t do a lot of sleeping at night. Insomnia.”

Logan nodded in understanding. “Same.”

Virgil left a couple more dollars for Quil and nodded at the door. 

“A walk, though, sounds great.”

Logan smiled and Virgil grinned in response. Neither made any motion to move, however, which had Virgil laughing. 

“One of us is gonna have to move first and—”

Lips pressed against his own out of nowhere, Virgil’s eyes widening before his brain and body got back on track with one another. Logan’s eyes were closed and so Virgil closed his own, pressing gently into the kiss. Logan was the one to pull away and it was his turn to look sheepish. 

“Sorry about that… I just… I just really wanted to kiss you.”

Virgil shook his head. 

“No! Don’t apologize. I… I enjoyed it… a lot.”

Virgil and Logan both blushed and giggled. The giggling only set them off more until they were laughing and clinging to each other. When they stopped to catch their breath, Virgil decided it was his turn to be brave and reached out, framing the other’s face with his hand before closing his eyes as he leaned in to kiss Logan a little more deeply this time. The kiss lasted longer than the first, Logan deepening it halfway through which only urged Virgil on. 

“Ah… so… that walk…”

Virgil nodded. 

“Right. Walk.”

Logan bit his lip and glanced down at his lap before looking up once more. 

“My hotel is not far from here…”

Virgil blushed but nodded.

“Well, I suppose it’s time I walked you home.”

With that, Virgil slipped from the barstool and, after some consideration, offered his hand to Logan. The man considered but ultimately took it, slipping off his own bar stool to join him. 

Together, the two left the bar and walked out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note to the Reader:**
>
>> CHAPTER THREE!
>> 
>> THIS ONE WAS SOOOO FUN AND SQUEE INDUCING TO WRITE, GUYS!
>> 
>> I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE AS MUCH AS I DO. :D


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